Reiteration
by Stolen Childe
Summary: *Repost due to formatting* Dean decides it's about damn time to talk. Coda 13x14


**Reiteration**

"Hey, do we need to talk about this?"

Castiel let out a little sigh as he heard Dean's bare feet pad gently across the tile. Castiel was sitting in the War Room and had been there for the better part of the evening and night. Ever since he had shared what he had gained from Donatello's mind with the Winchesters.

"What are you doing up, Dean?" Castiel asked softly.

"You gotta be kidding me... Is that really the question you wanna be asking right now, Cas? What the fuck do you think I'm doing up? You went full on Inquisition in there not five hours ago!"

"So it's _you_ who needs to talk about this then."

"You're damn right!"

"Very well. Talk."

Dean let loose a noise of frustration and slumped down in the chair opposite Castiel, trying to catch the blue eyes of the creature across from him. Castiel eventually capitulated and met the penetrating gaze of the hunter.

"You're _really_ not going to say anything. After every fucking thing that's happened the last ten fucking years. You aren't going to say anything? Since when has clamming up about this messed up shit ever done any of us any favours?"

"Dean, I've told you," Castiel said, slightly impatient. "I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You and Sam. I made you a promise to get your mother back and I made Kelly a promise to protect Jack. I did what was necessary to get the information we required. Donatello would not have told us willingly. There would have been no amount of more... gentle persuasion that would have gotten you the result you needed. He wasn't the man you thought he was. He was soulless. Entirely. He was corrupted. He would have hurt you, Sam, innocent bystanders, even himself if given half the chance. It was mercy."

Dean scoffed at that. "Mercy. Mercy? Really? You know who you're sounding a hell of a lot like, Cas? Uriel. Remember him? Dickwad number one that got you demoted because God forbid you fucking _care?_ Jesus Christ. After all the progress you've made your seeming an awful lot like God's 'Good' Angel from a decade ago."

"And what is wrong with that, exactly? Remember what I told you, Dean? Those ten long years ago? I'm a _soldier._ This is what I was created for. Soldiers do awful things to protect the people they care about. To keep them safe. It gave me no joy. No pride, to do what I did. Though I didn't hesitate. Not even for a second.

"For you? For Sam? For Jack? _You_ are my family. If I have to kill reapers, or wipe minds or break a few rules? I'll do it. To prevent you from suffering, I'll do it without question.

"I know a large part of you understands this. What I don't know is why you won't support me in this when you'd do the exact same thing in my position. You _have_ done it. When push comes to shove - you, Sam, Mary, Bobby, your father - you would all sacrifice yourself and your integrity to protect the people you love. It's a vicious, terrible cycle. One that not all of us are lucky enough to come back from. If it comes to my long, weary existence ending to keep you safe? Then so be it. The world needs the Winchesters, as I've _also_ told you before."

"And the Winchesters fucking need you, Cas! God how many times do you have to hear it for it to stick? We don't need you as a fighter, as a soldier or a bullet shield. We. Need. You. I..."

Here Dean swallowed, flickered his previously so steady gaze away before it landed once more on Castiel with new resolve. Dean got up and moved around the table, pulling out the chair next to Cas and gently resting his hands on Castiel's cheeks until there was no way Castiel could turn away unless he wanted to risk hurting the man.

" _I_ need you, Man. _I've_ told _you_ before. Remember? Sam and Mom may be my reason, but _you're_ my rock. Through everything, Cas, it's you who's kept me sane. I _can't_ , I mean _can't_ loose you again. _Never_ again. Because if if I do? There's a strong possibility I will not make it out of the other side of that. Do you hear me? If you go, I might just follow you down." Dean's hands slid down and squeezed Castiel's shoulders once, tight and a little lingering.

"Dean," Castiel murmured, voice choking on emotion. "What about Sam and your mother? Jack?"

"It is what it is, Cas. I can't explain it and I'm not about to try. When your gone, when I think you aren't coming back? I'm not me. It's not right. The world's off kilter and any hope and shred of faith I've ever had? It's gone. I need you. For me, to be me; I. Need. You," Dean enunciated each word carefully, never splintering their gaze. Never even blinking. It was tragic, it was almost romantic in it's own little twisted Winchester way. But, there clear as day in Dean's very green, slightly damp eyes, was the truth: Dean Winchester needed the Angel Castiel and that was just facts.

"I need to keep you safe," Castiel whispered, voice breaking and losing it's gentle timbre. He brought his hand up to cover Dean's that had migrated back to Castiel's cheek.

"Don't lose yourself in the process. I won't be able to take that anymore than I'd be able to take you dyin' again. You hear me?"

"I hear you."

"You _hear_ me?

"Yes, Dean. I hear you."

 **End**


End file.
